Which Way Is Home?

by Maria Kiely

  Ruzena returns the coins and the gum to everyone, but she keeps the scarf. Honza looks up in mock sorrow and then grins. “It looks better on you anyway.”

  Chapter 31

  NOODLE PUDDING

  WE ARE HAVING so much fun that the morning flies by. When I see the workers bringing out food, I am surprised it’s already time for lunch.

  “Ruzena, we have to go to our table. Mama told me to come back for lunch,” I say. I can tell that she doesn’t want to leave, but after a moment, she stands up to go with me.

  “Will you play more after you eat?” asks Jan.

  “Sure!” I say.

  “Great,” Honza says. “Maybe I’ll win my scarf back.”

  “We shall see,” my sister replies.

  As we cross the cafeteria, Ruzena carefully straightens the kerchief. I can see how pleased she is to be wearing it.

  When we get back to the table, Mama introduces Ruzena to Mr. and Mrs. D, and then she notices the kerchief. She laughs when Ruzena explains how she won it. “I’m glad you girls have found a way to enjoy yourselves. I was afraid it would be boring for you to spend the whole day here, but we must stay around in case there is some word from or about Papa. I’m sure he’ll be here by tomorrow or the next day.”

  Papa here, maybe tomorrow! The idea is almost too wonderful to be true.

  I close my eyes and picture his tall, commanding presence in his dark-brown suit with his black hair neatly combed back and shoes well-polished. I imagine him walking into the cafeteria. Everyone would stop and notice him. I would see him right away, before Mama or Ruzena, and would run as fast as I could straight into his arms. He would pick me up and hug me close and smell like soap and tobacco and Papa.

  But then I stop. What if there really are spies here?

  What if someone recognizes him and sends word to the Communists, telling them where he is? Could they come and take him away? Maybe we’re putting him in danger by making him come get us. But Mama wouldn’t let him put himself in danger. Mama knows what she is doing and Papa is very smart. I have to believe it will be all right. I force myself to push my panicky thoughts away.

  “I’m hungry,” I say to Mama. “Can I get something to eat?”

  “Of course,” she says. “Let’s go.”

  We walk to the front of the cafeteria with Ruzena and Mr. and Mrs. D and get in the long lunch line. When we reach the head of the line, we are each given a tray with a bowl of something that looks like a thin noodle pudding, a piece of dark brown bread, and a glass of milk. Back at the table, the grown-ups start eating right away, but Ruzena and I pause to inspect our meals. I, because I am curious, and Ruzena, because she’s a picky eater.

  The bowl contains noodles and raisins floating in some kind of milk. Mama says the noodles are called macaroni and the milk is evaporated milk that has a little water added to it. I taste it and think it is delicious. The raisins are sweet and chewy, and the macaroni is soft and slightly salty. I think it is a nice combination and I set to work eating happily. Ruzena does not agree. She takes one tiny taste and immediately pushes the bowl away.

  “Ugh! I can’t eat that. I’ll be sick,” she says dramatically.

  I look up from my bowl at Mama, expecting her to tell Ruzena to stop complaining and start eating. Instead, Mama pats Ruzena’s hand sympathetically and suggests that she eat a little of the bread and then try another bite of noodles. Ruzena nibbles miserably at the bread and takes a few sips of milk, but she refuses to touch the noodles.

  When I have eaten every drop from my bowl, I ask Mama if I may eat Ruzena’s portion. Mama nods and Ruzena pushes her bowl toward me. I am halfway through Ruzena’s bowl when two young men approach our table. They both look very weak and thin, and one of them is carrying a small bucket. The one with the bucket speaks with a wavering voice. “Do you have any leftover food to spare?” he asks.

  Mrs. D leans over and whispers, “They come around after every meal. I heard that they have been here for months. It is hard to survive that long on only the rations that are provided, but I don’t think they have any money or anywhere else to go.”

  She straightens and drops her bread into the bucket. Mama and Mr. D do the same. I pause. I’m still hungry enough to finish Ruzena’s portion. I look at the men. They have been here for a long time, and I might be leaving tomorrow. I tip the remaining contents of the bowl into their bucket. Both men nod gratefully at me and move on to the next table.

  I try to imagine what it must be like to have nowhere to go, and I almost cry with relief at the knowledge that Papa is coming for us.

  Chapter 32

  THE BOYS’ STORIES

  AFTER LUNCH, RUZENA and I return to Honza’s table, and we laugh, sing, and play cards as if we’ve known each other for years. At the end of another round of cards, Jan gathers them up and begins to shuffle again. I look around the table, curious about my new friends.

  “I have so many questions,” I blurt out suddenly. “I know why Honza was escaping and how he got separated from you, but how do you all know each other? Where are you from? And how did you end up here?” I ask, looking at each of the boys.

  “Anna!” Ruzena is shocked by my bold questions, but none of the boys seem to mind.

  Honza turns to her. “It’s okay. You’re our friends. We can trust you.”

  The word trust runs through me like electricity. The need to trust and be trusted is as profound as the fear of betrayal. Yet somehow we are sure of each other. And will keep each other’s secrets.

  Jan deals the cards. I know that he is thinking that if we play cards while they tell their story, we won’t look suspicious and no one will pay attention to us.

  Honza picks up his cards and begins, “We grew up together in Prague.”

  “We’ve been friends since we joined the Scouts when we were eight years old,” continues Jiri. “The leader of our troop, Scoutmaster Spivek, is my father. He taught us the importance of honesty, bravery, and loyalty to our country. We stuck together during the war even when the Nazis wouldn’t allow the Scouts to officially operate. Our families always helped one another even in the most difficult, dangerous times.”

  “Tomas and I are brothers, and Scoutmaster Spivek took us in to live with his family when the Nazis took our parents away,” Jan says.

  “After the war, we hoped everything would somehow return to normal, but you know what happened when the Communist Party took over,” continues Honza. “Our families refused to join them, and my friends and I joined the anti-Communist protests.”

  “When we got in trouble for protesting, my father realized we needed to leave. He got word that if we could plan our own escape, we could all stay with some friends in England until we found our own place,” Jiri explains. “We got special permission to go on a Boy Scout trip to a town right on the Czech-German border. Our plan was to camp in the woods and cross the border at night. We invited Honza to come with us.”

  “It was terrible having to go without you!” Jan says. “We were scared we’d never see you again.”

  “I was scared, too, but then my grandfather told me he knew a family that was planning an escape just a few days later and I could join them at Hotel Blue Star. He said once I got to Regensburg, my uncle would send for me and I could live with him in Australia. And that family who was escaping turned out to be you,” Honza finishes, smiling at me and Ruzena.

  “We were so lucky to find you.” Tomas turns to Honza. “After we walked across the border, we went to a German post and they sent us to this camp. We knew that lots of refugees traveling from Prague ended up here, so we hoped you’d come if you got out.”

  “Now we just have to wait for word from Jiri’s family friends in London and Honza’s uncle in Australia to find out when we can leave,” Jan adds.

  “How does your grandfather know our family?” Ruzena asks Honza.

 
“I’m not sure. He only told me that I could trust you,” Honza replies.

  “What about you?” Jiri asks me and Ruzena. “Honza told us you were traveling with your mother. Where’s your father?”

  Ruzena tells them about Papa being a Czech diplomat, about his connections to the Underground government, about how he had to escape, and that we’re hoping to be reunited with him soon. I notice that she’s left out a few details, but I’m surprised at how open she’s being with these boys. She must really trust Honza.

  When she’s done talking, we sit in silence for a moment, taking in all that we have learned about one another. This morning, we were strangers, but now we’ve formed a bond that none of us will forget.

  Chapter 33

  MUSIC IS MAGIC

  RUZENA STANDS UP. “I need to stretch my legs a bit. I’m just going to take a little walk in the halls,” she announces.

  Honza jumps to his feet. “Do you mind if I join you?”

  Ruzena smiles. “Not at all.”

  I watch Ruzena and Honza leave the room side by side, and I wonder if she should’ve asked Mama first. Jan interrupts my thoughts. “Did you go to the Slet this year?” he asks, indicating my uniform.

  “Yes, were you there too?”

  “Yes, it was so much fun,” he says. I agree enthusiastically, and soon the boys and I are sharing our favorite memories from the gymnastics festival.

  A few minutes later, Honza and Ruzena return, walking very close to each other and smiling broadly. Ruzena comes back to our table, but Honza stops to talk to one of the officers.

  “We found a piano in one of the rooms down the hall. It’s actually in tune, and Honza is asking if he can roll it in here so that I can play for everyone,” she says with a look of delight on her face.

  “Do you think they’ll allow it?” I ask. My question is answered almost before it leaves my mouth, as Honza and the officer return to the cafeteria pushing an upright piano. Ruzena practically flies to it. Honza sets up a chair for her, and she sits down and begins to play.

  Instantly, all the chattering in the room stops and everyone turns toward the beautiful music. She starts with Mozart’s Turkish March. It’s fast and complicated. Ruzena’s fingers rush up and down the keys in a blur, and her face is taut with concentration. I look across the room and see Mama standing and watching proudly.

  When Ruzena finishes, there is a moment of silence and then a roar of applause. Ruzena smiles and nods her head in acknowledgment and begins to play again. This time she chooses a Chopin prelude in E minor. It is slow and romantic.

  I can feel the crowd relax. It’s like they’ve forgotten where they are and have been transported somewhere else by the music. It is magical!

  By the time Ruzena finishes her second piece, Mama is standing by my side with her arm around me. Again, there is a moment of silence followed by thunderous applause. Ruzena looks over at Mama and me and smiles as she stands and bows to the crowd. For a brief moment, she could be on a stage in Prague.

  The crowd wants more. People start yelling, “Encore! Play another!” and so Ruzena sits down again. A murmur goes through the crowd as everyone recognizes the opening notes of Dvořák’s famous song “Goin’ Home,” from his New World Symphony. The music wraps me in images of Babicka, Maruska, Pavel, Roven, and most of all Papa. Many people in the room get to their feet with tears in their eyes. Ruzena pauses only for a second, looking out at the crowd, and then she begins to play “Kde Domov Můj?”—the Czech national anthem. I begin to sing along, and after a moment, Mama and the boys join in. Slowly more voices pipe up all around us, and soon the whole room is singing as one. “Where is my home? Where is my home? The Czech land, my home.”

  By the end of the song, everyone is on their feet, and the cheering is so uproarious that it shakes the building. Ruzena’s playing has brought everyone together and given even the saddest and most discouraged people hope. I am in awe as I watch dozens of people rush up to thank and congratulate her.

  “Your sister is amazing!” Honza says, wiping away tears.

  After a while, Mama makes her way through the people surrounding Ruzena and politely removes her from the crowd. When they return to our table, all the boys stand and applaud. Ruzena smiles and gives a little curtsy.

  “That was wonderful,” Mama says. “But I think we need a little quiet family time, so I’ve decided that we should go back to the boat now and have our dinner there.”

  For the first time, Ruzena does not protest against the idea of leaving Honza. She’s clearly worn out from the emotions of playing. I also think she’s hungry—and happy at the prospect of having something other than the noodles in milk to eat.

  “We will see you boys tomorrow. Good night,” Mama says to the boys.

  “Bye, guys! You better be ready to lose at cards to me tomorrow!” I jump up to leave.

  “In your dreams!” Jan jokes with me, while Ruzena lingers behind for just a moment longer, and I know she is saying a special goodbye to Honza.

  Ruzena catches up to me and she is practically skipping. She links her arm through mine as if I’m her best friend. I look at her in astonishment. This is the first time she has ever done something like this. I smile at her and she returns my grin.

  As we walk along the streets of Regensburg, Ruzena is unusually talkative.

  “How does Honza’s grandfather know our family?” she asks Mama.

  At first, Mama looks as though she might be upset that Ruzena knows about this connection, but then she explains, “Honza’s grandfather worked at the Department of Agriculture when your grandfather was prime minister. Papa and I did not know him well, but we knew he was a good man, so when our contacts said he was looking for a way for his grandson to leave the country, I decided it would be all right for him to come with us.”

  “I’m so glad you did,” Ruzena says. “He says he has to go live in Australia with his uncle, but that’s so far away. If he can’t get in touch with his uncle, maybe he could come with us when we leave with Papa.”

  Mama smiles kindly at Ruzena. “Honza should be with his own family, but we’ll see what happens when Papa gets here.”

  I think it would be nice if Honza could come with us, but Ruzena seems totally fixed on the idea. Honza feels like family to me now, but he must want to be with his real family as much as I want to be with mine.

  Chapter 34

  DREAMS OF HOME

  WE STOP TO buy food at the same shop we went to yesterday, but there’s an old man behind the counter today, and he doesn’t offer us any butter. Mama buys a loaf of bread, three more apples, a chunk of hard cheese, and some milk. We carry the food back to the boat.

  The air has gotten cool and raw, and it begins to pour just before we reach the houseboat. Ruzena and I are both shivering by the time we reach our room. Mama wraps the thin blanket around us, but it feels damp, like everything in the room. Mama rubs our hands to warm them, but we cannot stop shivering. This is nothing like playing Storm at Sea.

  Finally, Mama sighs and stands up. “We can’t stay here tonight. Mrs. D told me that there’s one proper hotel left in town. We’ll get a room there, and we can have warm baths and a better night’s sleep. Even if it is more expensive, it’ll be worth it to keep you from getting sick. Let’s go.”

  A real bath! It sounds like heaven! It takes only a minute to collect our bags, and we follow Mama back out into the rain.

  The hotel is a large stone building in the center of town. It was clearly a very fancy hotel before the war, but now one side of the building is in ruins and boarded up. It must have been bombed. The other side of the building is still standing strong, and they have done their best to make it look neat and presentable.

  We enter the lobby, and Mama asks for a room and hands over the last of the money from Private Mayfield. The woman behind the check-in desk nods politely, picks up a key, and l
eads us down a long hall and up a flight of stairs to our room.

  The room is like a dream come true. It’s warm and comfortable. There are two large beds covered in fluffy down comforters and a bathroom next door with hot running water. The only problem is that it seems like the bathroom must have been a room for washing clothes before it was turned into a bathroom, because instead of a bathtub, there are two enormous sinks. At first, I am so disappointed that I almost burst into tears, but then Mama points out that the sinks are large enough that we can actually fit in them with our legs bent. Mama suggests we bathe first and then eat our dinner and go to bed. I can hardly wait for Mama to fill the sink with warm water. It feels like forever since I’ve felt clean.

  I submerge myself as much as I can in one of the sinks. Mama finds a soft washcloth and some soap and gently scrubs my back. My muscles relax and I finally feel warm. I tilt my head back into the other sink, and Mama turns on the warm water and soaks my hair. Then she rubs my scalp with some sweet-smelling shampoo. As she rinses my hair clean, I think this is the most wonderful bath I’ve ever had.

  After Ruzena and Mama bathe, it’s time to eat. We use the desk by the window as a dining table. It is dark now and the rain drives hard against the glass, making it impossible to see outside. Mama draws the curtains. It feels safe and cozy in the room. Mama divides the bread and cheese into three portions and gives us each an apple. We take turns drinking the milk out of the bottle. Tonight there is enough for us to eat until our bellies are satisfied. It feels wonderful to be clean and warm and full. When we are done eating, a heavy drowsy feeling begins to overwhelm me, and I crawl into bed next to Ruzena. I am asleep before Mama turns off the light.

  The next morning when I wake up, I feel like I’ve slept for days, and it takes me a minute to remember where I am as I snuggle under the comforter.